Question of the Day

More music questions, you ask? Of course I can ask a music question:

What is the best cover of a song ever recorded?


Note: A cover, if you wondered, is when a band plays a song written and already performed/recorded by another band (ex: Van Halen covered The Kink's "You Really Got Me Now").

Note: I did not ask you the worst cover, because I already know that P Diddy has done the four worst covers in history. I hear, that P Diddy is coming out with an SUV he designed. He basically is going to take the good parts of older SUVs and put them together with his own newer accessories to create an overall worse SUV. Cool.

Question of the Day

Which do you believe that you are more likely to die from:

Being whacked by the Mafia?

Being kicked in the head by a mule?

Being pummeled to death by Peter Boyle?

Note: I realize that for most of us, none of these are highly likely, but one must still choose which is the best answer for the question.

Why ESPN2 Programmers Deserve a Raise

Hola quesolitos! How are we today? I hope this day finds you all safe and well. The High Cheese has spent a good portion of this day in deep sleep and therefore is late getting a word out to y'all. But never fear, I still have love in my heart and breath in my lungs. I will get the job done for you.

Do you remember the good old days when MTV played no music and VH1 played lots of music? Well those days appear to be gone. Now it seems that VH1 has switched its aspirations from being like MTV at its best, to being like E! at its worst. I don't care how much Christina paid for her dog's collar, how many tricked out minivans or motorcycles Missy has, or whether or not Britney has had a fourth husband. Now, I have noticed that the only music channel that still plays music is BET--whose main audience is white teenagers, did you know that?--and the problem is I am not a real fan of most of the music that is on BET.

Now I cannot make the same claim against ESPN and its many channels. If there is one thing they do, it is show sports. Especially ESPN 2. You gotta love the real passion they have to keep this thing going with current sporting events rather than replays. Unfortunately, the producers and programmers have found that there are sadly not really round the clock sporting events happening in the world--unless of course you count Magic: The Gathering Tournaments, Scrabble Championships, Spelling Bees, Arm Wrestling Championships, Poker Tournaments, and Competitive Food Eating Events...all of which I have seen on ESPN 2. One might say they are trying too hard, but honestly, I don't think there is such a thing as trying too hard. They promised a certain product, and are delivering. It is our fault that we would rather watch competitive eating rather than Dutch league soccer. Oh well.

Keep watching TV--it has been proven to help sharpen passive staring skills.

God save the Cheese.

Question of the Day

An important question about work:

Do you crap on the clock?

Note: I should clear this up...I am not asking if you indeed deficate directly onto the physical clock located at your place of work. I have no desire to know the answer to that. What I am actually asking is whether or not you use your regularly scheduled lunch break at work, and other allowed breaks, in order to relieve yourself, or do you abuse the clock at work choosing to do the big job on company time, in addition to your regularly scheduled and taken breaks. It should also be pointed out that this is not a, "Oh yeah, I did that once," or "when I have to," kind of answer. This is a question about your usual activity--your normative behavior.

Today's Battle Royale

The High Cheese, in an attempt to meet the highest standards of excellence for all of you adoring fans out there never rests until he has provided you with everything you have wanted (provided that what you want can be accomplished easily and in not that much time...but don't be ingrates, get happy!!!).

I bring you today the first installment of what may become a mainstay here at the home of the inside heater (baseball term): The Battle Royale.

After days and days of endless discourse on the crucial matter of which cereal mascot was coolest, I bring you the finalists who will dual to the death, or until there is an obvious winner. These two generated the most excitement and the most heated discussion. You wanted the best, you got the best...



In the red corner from Quaker Cereals, weighing in at a powerful 158, the master of minerals, the hooplah of the health world, the fiber tiger, the guru of grains, the nuclear laxative...


King Vitamin!









And his opponent in the red corner, from Post cereals, tipping the scales at a svelt 121: the sweetest thing, the smoothest groove, the father of funk, the playa freak of puffed wheat, the soul in the bowl, the champion of breakfasts and the breakfast of champions...


Sugar Bear







Now this is where y'all come in. You have the deciding vote. You determine who wins this battle royale. But the trick is, you gotta give us the reasoning behind your vote. Remember to fight kinda fair, and at least distract the ref before you do something really illegal.

Who loves you baby? That's right. The one and only High Cheese.

Bears Update, or, He signed, thank you Lord.

You go away for a day and, boy howdy, don't things pick up steam. Needless to say it is a sweltering day in Jersey and all is peaceful here at homeplate. The High Cheese is feeling great and ready to celebrate, but first I must update.

Congratulations everyone! Cedric Benson signed a five-year deal. That means that the Bears now have their first round draft pick in pads and competing for a job against the third and fourth ranked rushers in the preseason (Adrian Peterson and Thomas Jones) on a team ranked eighth in the league in rushing. This is also following the official announcement that rookie Kyle Orton will be the team's starting quarterback this season (but I thought Hutchinson was getting the system now? Oh wait, he still throws like a blind girl...that's right.).

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Everyone get your hands together, get up off of your seat, get a job...eh...sorry about that, got excited. Either way, get fired up because the High Cheese has arrived. It is another glorious weekend and that means that most of you won't be reading this until Monday. Oh well.

I figured that it has been a while since I did some shouting out so in honor of my own recovered health I will give you a healthy one to get you through the weekend.

Alright, on with the shoutouts: I would like to thank God, first of all for sparing my life, Kelly--you really are the most incredible woman in the world!!!, my parents--I love you Mom!!!--...oh who am I leaving out, of course I would like to thank the Academy, and Jeremy for always believing in me, James for always being there, Kami--you're a sweetheart. Tito, Jermaine, Marlon, Ronnie, and Reggie--you guys made great music. Josh and Kara--BFF and NRA. Billy Ocean--you changed my life forever. Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Adam Sandler, and Hugh Grant. Cuba, except for that hateful dentist who hopefully no longer practices. Senator Fred Thomspon. Governor Evan Bayh. Constitutional signee Button Gwinnett, and all the rest of the ATL! TDD, Pac, B.I.G., Luda--holla. All my thursday night posse: Tater, Mar, and the yunginz. All my friday night posse: , John, Sean, Mike, Cesar, Aryn, Taylor, Kisha, Amber, Josh, Justin, Melissa, Sarah, Steven (if he's still alive), Kevin, Katherine, Nate, Amanda, Matt, and sometimes Bobby E! What's up playas. Kristen and Dave--Zebra Cakes and inebriation for all (except for Taylor, she's still growing)! Richard, Karl, Groucho, and the rest of the Marx brothers. Kevin my producer--check this new one out. Doug and Shawn and Eli and a player to be named later. Noah, Abraham, Moses, Joshua, David, Nathan, Elijah, Elisha, Ishaiah, Jeremiah, the 12-you know who you are. That monkey with the glasses. Last but not least, Titus, you never doubted me and always support me when I am down and out. Thank you. Thank you.

Question of the Day

Count Chocula wanted me to ask you all something:


Who was the best breakfast cereal mascot of all time?

One Way Streets and Monkeys with Glasses and Skates

Good morning and greetings to all you quesolitos out there who have been praying for the High Cheese's speedy return. Good news: I survived. I have beaten the summer death plague. Hope that you don't get it. It is no fun.

I actually have a question today that I need some help with: When is enough enough? (Is this? --yep.) No really, I mean it. When is enough enough? When can a team you like so much push you to the edge so that you begin to like another team instead? Are there justifiable reasons for ever changing sides, or are you a fan for life and a turncoat if you change no matter what?

I mean, I used to like Hockey--I know, I'm sorry too--and even more I used to be a Blackhawks fan--I know, I said I was sorry. They were really good, but then they got swept in the Stanley Cup finals by the Pittsburgh Penguins. No big deal, I was still a fan. I was still sporting my jersey and ready to play at a moment's notice--nevermind the fact that I had broken my wrist while rollerblading and couldn't ice skate either--(sorry for this big pause, but honesty demands a retelling of this story in a more honest light...)

So my cousin and I are really into hockey and we talk my parents into doing
their boring adult stuff without us and letting us play roller hockey in the
gymnasium at our church. All was wonderful as they drove off. We were lacing on
the skates and getting ready for a showdown. I wasn't a superb skater so I chose
to play goalie. I had a lot of the pads and the glove and I was already a master
of the game in my mind--a true netminding specialist. So for five furious
minutes we played "hockey," which was basically two chubby white kids rolling
the wrong direction on rollerblades and blaming them for our own lack of skill.
My cousin put a few past me, and like any bad workman, I set about blaming
my tools. I was sure that my skates were jacked up, and I had to check them
out.

This is where the fun starts. Most people with any shred of sense in them
would have sat down and checked out the skates. Not me. I was too stupid for
that. Instead I opted for the stand on one skate and kick the other leg onto a
table for closer examination method. Pure physics lets you know just how
retarded I am. So I kick my leg up and of course the other skate propelled by my
own portly mass and acceleration goes rolling out from under me. I fell to the
ground in a heap of belly, hockey gear, curse words, and a broken limb.

During a timeout...not the game...a timeout. That is when and how I broke
my wrist skating. It is not a hockey injury. It is a moron's badge.

So anyway, I liked the Blackhawks, but then they started getting rid of all the talent. I could handle a few bad trades. They even traded my three favorite players, including my all time fave. I had every hockey card of his that was imaginable. They stripped the team down to no talent hacks within a coupla years. I was still a fan. Even when they were voted worst sports franchise by ESPN, I was still a fan. But now they have that dubious distinction for like the sixth year, and the owner has gone on record numerous times saying, "Don't ask me about winning Stanley Cups. Those things are too expensive." I mean, he even admits he's not trying to win.

So is that enough? Can I turn my back on them and pledge my allegiance to another team? Or are there simply no grounds that allow for a fan to change their loyalties. Is it really a completely one way street--I give all to the team even if the team assures to give me jack squat in return? Let me know what you think. I need some guidance.

Question of the Day

What is your middle name?

No lying.

The Awakening

Enough of this summer death! I rise. Better--I am risen. I feel again the warmth of strength and the ferocity of the blood in my veins. I am no longer tainted. I am no longer poisoned. I am alive. I am alive. I am alive. I feel again. I see again. I speak again. At first uneasy and dry. But quickly I find water in my throat and the desert becomes ocean again, for only the trillionth time or so. It is a miracle. Yet I am alive.

Question of the Day

If you could watch any two people in the world have a fistfight, who would the two people be? Second, who do you think would win?

The Stirring

He stirs. His movements hurt just a little less than they did the day before. His throat, still a wreckage of bile and rawness, proves useless to him. He tries again to speak. Slowly the words and the air come, but the moisture won't. It's as if he never had a drink, ever. It's as if his body is bone dry. His desert throat betrays him and communication is impossible. He groans and motions, but he is alone. She has left him for now. She will undoubtedly return soon--her love compels her. He does not deserve it. He sleeps again. This is good. Rest is good. He may indeed survive. Then again he may not.

Question of the Day

If you could go on a two-week vacation anywhere in the world, where would you go and why?

The Quickening

Though death's icy whispers summon me to grave laden Phrygia, my Artificer hath not summoned me and thus I shall not go. I will stay mine own post and make war that I might yet continue to live.

Continue your prayers. May God save the Cheese.

Question of the Day

From broken limbs to broken hearts...

What is the worst pain you have ever felt?

Share the story behind it as well, but remember that we are a family friendly site.

Death May Knock, But He Be Not Welcome Here

Oh, beloved fans, there is a matter of grave importance that has been brought to light. We must be vigilant and devoted to all seriousness and concern, for not all is well.

Our host has fallen gravely ill. He is struggling in a moment by moment gappling match with death himself. Though all hell assail him, he fears not the eternal and infinite repercussions of denying victory to the end of all men. Excruciatingly he regularly takes high grade fevers yet his body, dumb with infirmity, mistakes them for icy chills. He perspires, and he rattles from cold. His breath is measured and tainted...and shallow. His throat a quagmire of pain and wretched disease. His chest rises with gravel and lowers with exhaustion. His eyes have lost some of the ability to focus. He knows everywhere that hurts, for he can feel his hurt everywhere. There is not much light left in him...there is not much time left now.

He is right with his maker, so he is not affraid. Continue to pray for his revival and restoration, lest he be cast from this earth hurtling into the next aeon and face to face with God Almighty only to be all but completely obliterated by such a gentle and powerful face, leaving only the soul in a new body shrouded wholly in brightest glory--a sun all his own, unbearable and at peace. It may be that he is not ready yet to put away his servant. Pray. Pray fervently.

Question of the Day

Everyone loves the hypotheticals:

If you were trapped on a deserted island, what three things would you want to have with you?

Note: One cannot opt for something that would make them "un-trapped"--i.e. a life raft, a boat, a helicopter, a plane, etc. Just settle in and get real comfortable on the island, you're going to be there a while okay.

Cedric "The Entertainer" Benson

Hey hey Cheese addicts. Time for another installment of joy from your favorite fan of the fastball up and in. I'm a teeny tiny bit under the weather, but it's gametime either way. Whaddaryagonnado?

Well, Cedric Benson, the fourth overall draft pick out of the University of Texas, is the last first round draft pick without a contract. The Bears have reportedly offered him their "best and final offer." This is good news. He has missed all of training camp, is probably a bit out of shape, and won't sign. The results of not signing are basically that he will not play football for a year and then re-enter the draft and make a lot less money. Apparently this is much more appealing than playing for the Bears. You know, for a guy who said he is not another Ricky Williams, he sure looks like another troubled idiot who might not be worth the headache if you ask me.

We should have drafted Mike Williams.

4-12. Feel the glory!

Question of the Day

Hands...touching hands...reaching out...Touching me...Touching you...

So where were you born?
Second, where do you consider home to be?
And what makes it home to you?

I just want to be loved, is that so wrong?

In Your Wildest Dreams

Greetings beloved friends of the High Cheese. I am sure that there is some way to attempt some sort of fanfare for each and every one of you, because quite honestly, you all deserve some fanfare. I love you all so much.

Well, I have decided that, much like Richard Marx before me, the Muse is upon me. Seriously, everynight so far this week I have come home and written a new song, and in my humble opinion, they are all solid. Everyone is a hit. SOlid Gold, baby! I don't mean to brag, but Richard wouldn't mind me telling you: I think that my superstar alt-country/rock carreer is right on schedule. If that doesn't work out, there is always pro ball. You know how it is.

So last night I had a dream that I was having major siezures and couldn't hardly think or stay awake, but had to take a test for school. They wouldn't let me out even though I was having siezures. So I did real crappy on the test. I awoke frustrated.

Yesterday I awoke perplexed. This might be the wierdest dream ever, so I will share it with you. Please refrain from psychoanalyzing these dreams unless you are liscenced and certified. Otherwise, I don't need any help Ms. Warwick.

So I am at a school roller-skating party--an elementary school roller-skating party. Somehow the most wonderful woman in the universe and I are affiliated tightly enough with this random elementary school to be in the rollerink. What's more, so are our friends the Hogans (a family of five) and of course my brother and cousin (the Eskimobot and the SLAB respectively). All of us are too old, but nevertheless were there. Don't ask me.

To show their appreciation for us they offered us tremendous discounts on low line drum sets. They were not a good brand, but they had okay sound. They retailed normally around $500, but they were offering them to us--the appreciated--at the price of $90. $90 for a set of drums! I know! The only catch was that we had to practice on one of the drum sets before we could buy a set. So I sat down to practice, because I knew I wanted one...oddly enough, as I played (not well...I suck on drums even in my dreams), mashed potatoes came flying off and out from the heads every time I hit them.

"Gross!" I exclaimed. "They have mashed potatoes in them."

"Only the demo models," they explained. "When you buy a set, they are brand new."

"That's weird, cause they sound funny with all the potatoes in them."

"Just think, if they sound this good with potatoes in them, how good they will sound brand new!!!" What a salesman!

The dream turns even weirder right here. Becaue at this point I realize that aliens have abducted the Hogans--all five of them. I go hunting for them, and through a door in the corner I walk down a very technologically advanced hallway to get to a room with a grated metal floor and cables connecting the now silently standing still Hogans who have been forced to wear clouded clear plastic (like foggy shower doors). It was completely decent, but really weird.

So we figured out that in order to beat the aliens we had to all imagine the same thing together and then it would happen. First we imagined new walls for the room and hallway that way the aliens couldn't get in, then we imagined new silver outfits for the Hogans (Purple lobeyed but silver won). Finally we went and battled a few aliens boxing them in with imagined walls.

The fight was going well in our favor, but the skate party was winding down, so I decided I was ready to go. After walking outside, I complained to my mom, who was now suddenly there, that I had meant to buy one of those $90 drum sets. So we talk our way back in--no small task--and we are able to buy a drum set, but not until after I was wrong about whether or not she could use her checkcard. She could. So she bought it for me...che said she really wanted to buyu it for me. Whatever.

Everything was cool, but one of my drum heads still had a little mashed potato in it, but I figured, "Ninety bucks! Who cares. I can clean that up."

Aliens! They're all aliens. And the Hogans were abducted again and put in the plastic wrap again. Why couldn't they keep from being abducted? I had managed it. So we rescued them.

My brother took my drums to his place and kind of moved in on them like they were his. We fought some aliens at his place, and the Hogans got abducted again. After winning, I took my drums, put them in the most incredible woman in the universe's car, and drove off the fight more aliens.

That is it.

I guess that these vivid dreamscapes of pain are the price I must pay in order to have the muse upon me. I am a trortured artist with a tortured soul of the truest sorts.

God save the Cheese.

Question of the Day

The Tater and I were in a serious discussion that led to some deep exchanges. Out of this powerhouse bonding moment, I bring you today's question:

What are your top five albums of all time?

Mine are (in no particular order):


1. Radiohead - OK Computer
2. Silverchair - Diorama
3. Pearl Jam - Yield
4. Pink FLoyd - The Final Cut
5. Led Zeppelin - 3

As an alternate, I choose: Robert Palmer's Greatest Hits.

Just kidding on the alternate pick.

Public Service Announcement: Not-So-Safehouses

Hola quesolitos. Just having a wonderful morning and hoping that the same is happening for y'all.

I haven't spoken on this matter in a while, but there are times that a man must do what a man has to do for the greater good.


Location: Camp Manatawny, Showerhouse Restrooms

City: Camp Manatawny, Douglassville, PA

Cleanliness: If cleanliness is next to godliness, although this is at a church camp, this place must be hell's antechamber. There is water that runs from the shower stalls across the floor creating a thin veneere of humidity, water, soap & shampoo leftovers, urine, sweat, and mud. The stink could knock a buzzard off a meat wagon, because campers can't seem to figure out how these flushing toilets work. Every stall is a nightmare. You look in and it's ringworm and cornflakes holding hands in the bowl. Awful.

Supply Level: This is the saving grace, there is plenty of supplies. Surprisingly, there are always paper towels. This could be because an alarmingly small number of people wash their hands, or it could be because someone is on top of it. What must be corrected though is the 220 grit toilet paper with which one could soft-shine a car. By mid-week the chafe is so bad you could almost see the agony in someone's eye as their body lets them know it is time to go again soon.

Structural Fortitude: Everything is wood, nothing is new--this means it is a bit unstrudy all around. Several of the stalls have no door. Although part of me enjoys this because there is nothing so unnerving as walking in a restroom and seeing a guy sitting there in the unprotected stall just looking at you; I believe that this could be remedied and no one would mind.

Capacity: Doorless stalls included, there are six or seven sit-down jobbers that provide more than adequate coverage for the camp. There are no urinals--this is a bad idea, because those same neanderthals who have never heard of flushing, have also never heard of aiming--I swear they are going with their eyes closed.

Graffiti: Plenty. Half of it is really juvenile, but most of it is clean--it is a Christian camp. Most of the time it has to do with calling each stall "The Bank" where "only deposits" are allowed. Worth a small chuckle. Especially as different people make tally marks under deposits to show that they have in fact deposited at this bank. ALso there is occasionally some Christian exhortation to repent or love one another, all of which is most certainly appropriate.

Amenities: Ah, does humidity count? This is by far the most humid restroom I have ever been in. it has its own weather system--even on the days it isn't humid outside, the bathroom is humid. It has to do with the showers. No lie, if you go in there to do the big job, you'll be sweatin' like a baptist preacher in mere seconds. It will be the sweatiest, nastiest, hardest to clean up, dirtiest steamer you have ever taken.

Comments: There is a weird table in the middle of the room though. Don't really know what it's for. Look at the picture and the slogan above. This truly was "an altogether unique experience."

Overall Grade: F. Go elsewhere--I suggest downstairs Garret Hall.


Just serving the greater good. God save the Cheese.

Question of the Day

Which sport is best and why?

Woe Is Me, Sweet Home Chicago

Boy howdy! Today is an awesome day. I hope that today finds each and all three of you faithful readers in a beautiful place with a beautiful woman (unless you're female then you can be with a guy, you know what I mean) having just an amazing time enjoying this day. Isn't Jersey gorgeous in the sweltering humidity?

I would like to report how proud I am of my Chicago sports teams. The Cubs have apparently packed it in for the year. Right now, I think that most any team besides the Royals (16 straight losses...ouch) could put it to my team. They have gone into the classic maybe-next-year mode in which they pull up all of the promising minor leaguers and get them some good innings in the big leagues so that they know what they got down below if they need it. They let me down this year. I love them nonetheless, but they cut me deep this year.

Meanwhile, being a Chicago Bears fan is not any easier, and their year hasn't officially started yet. Sexy Rexy Grossman is out again. This guy is giving Mr. Glass a run for his money. So that means that all of us Bears fans are going to be watching back-ups again this year--and quite frankly, I talked with the other seven and we're getting a littl e tired of it. Look at this from the official Bears website:

While Grossman's career has been derailed for the second straight year, the Bears are vowing that losing their starting quarterback won't cripple the offense like it did last season.

"I know a lot's being said about Rex and there are a lot of things being said (about) the eulogy of the team given that Rex is out," Angelo said. "But I want to make sure our fans know that we're not lamenting over Rex Grossman. It's unfortunate; we all feel bad about it.

"(But) we have a contingency plan. The only thing that I'm disappointed in is that we're having to get to the contingency plan, not who we have to replace him. We have a lot of confidence in our quarterbacks and certainly in (offensive coordinator) Ron Turner and we feel very good about going forward."

With nearly a month to prepare for the season opener and a better supporting cast in place, the Bears have faith in starter Chad Hutchinson and rookie backup Kyle Orton. "(Chad) is much more prepared (than he was last season)," Angelo said. "He's been with us now in the offseason. He's comfortable with the system. He just needs reps and we have plenty of time to give him that now. When we brought him in last year, we brought him in during the season and that's a tough time to train a player."

Veteran Jeff Blake, who agreed to terms Sunday and suited up Monday night for the first time, will compete for the third-string position.

"He's another quarterback in camp right now," said coach Lovie Smith. "We didn't get him any reps tonight. It will take him a while. But he's played a lot of football and he should be able to help us down the line."

So Chad Hutchinson gets the offense now...Great, but what do we do about the fact that he throws like a seven year old blind girl? I like the prospects of Kyle Orton from Purdue, but how bad will Chad Hutchinson have to play before we put a rookie in who isn't even getting pre-season snaps? I also like the fact that we know that neither Chad nor Kyle will really be winners, because we signed Jeff Blake who will "help us down the line." He only does that by getting in, and Lovie knows that he is gonna be in. Awesome!

So it will be another year of the ground game going solo. But wait, Bears fans, theres more! We have yet to sign our first round draft pick and team Messiah, RB Cedrick Benson. This should not surprise us as you may remember him crying about being picked by the Bears. Literally, crying. I can't really blame him. He knew it was bad news. He knew it was a horrible beginning to his career. Listen to the official Bears line on this business:

While Angelo remains upbeat about the team's prospects this
season and the quarterback situation, he's clearly frustrated over first-round
draft pick Cedric Benson's holdout, which is well into its third week.

While No. 2 pick Ronnie Brown ended his holdout by signing
with the Dolphins Monday, Benson is no closer to coming to terms.

"We really haven't had any progress on that," Angelo said.
"It's unfortunate. We're
still working on it. It's just not happening."

Asked if the impasse would soon reach a critical juncture,
Angelo said: "It was critical last week. Every day that goes by is critical as
far as we're concerned."

At least he acknowledges that it is "unfortunate." Geez, that guy wins an understatement of the day award. We just lost our starting quarterback and have Helen Keller as a back-up, we insulted our starting RB by drafting someone to replace him after a great year, and that guy is still in denial that he has to be a Chicago Bear. That is unfortunate.

I'm calling 4-12 right now.

Welcome to the pain of being a Chicago sports fan. Is there a balm in Gilead? God save the Cheese.

2005 COLLEGE FOOTBALL BONANZA!!!

The High Cheese is back, loving fans. Camp is over and that means that college football is about to start! And, boy howdy!, are we excited. So let's get this show on the road. It is what you have been waiting for, what you have lost sleep over, what you just can't live without...the High Cheese's:

2005 College Football Bonanza!!!

College Football Pre-season Top 25:

1. USC
Tremendous depth. Tremendous coach. Tremendous QB. Tremendous Program.

2. Texas
Coach Brown finally won the big game, expect another Rose Bowl appearance from this super-talented team. Vince Young for Heisman.

3. Iowa
Coach Ferentz and QB Drew Tate combined with an outstanding defense make this talented Iowa team a real contender.

4. Tennessee
UT has serious depth and strength on the line of scrimmage, but a grueling SEC schedule and a commitment to two starting QBs may be their undoing.

5. Oklahoma
One of the most overrated teams in the field. With the law firm QBs gone (Heupel, Hibl, and White), who will lead this team? AP, that’s who.

6. Louisville
A lock in the Big East. Once they get the BCS bid and 13 million for recruiting, you will see a dynasty unfold.

7. Florida State
Wyatt Sexton has Lyme’s Disease. But why do the rest of you underachieve so badly? This is the most overrated team in football.

8. Virginia Tech
Out from under the shadows of Seniors and his own bong smoke, Vick has the chance to prove he can lead this deep team. Beamer aims for a second ACC title.

9. Miami
The Canes are talented, but have to play as a team if they are going to win their conference, let alone the national championship.

10. Alabama
If they can stay healthy (a tall task for QB Croyle), a favorable schedule makes the Tide a real contender for the SEC West title this year.

11. Florida
Urban Meyer and CJ Leak make this team very dangerous, now they just need a RB to fill out the read-option threat.

12. Michigan
Talented, but needing to see a leader emerge on both sides of the ball, especially at QB.

13. Texas A&M
Returning 20 starters, especially Reggie McNeal at QB, the Aggies should enter their last two games undefeated, and one of those is at home.

14. Purdue
Without OSU or Michigan on the schedule, this solid team could make things interesting in the Big 10 title chase.

15. Ohio State
Very deep, but in need of a proven RB, and a consistent QB. This is perhaps Zwick’s last chance to prove he should be the No. 1.

16. LSU
After losing their leading rusher for the year, this team is still talented. But after losing their head coach to the Dolphins, they aren’t contenders.

17. Fresno State
This senior-laden team returns 18 players and will make noise, but Boise State on five days rest followed by USC the next week is just too much.

18. Georgia
Sure the team is deep, but losing that much talent has to take a toll in the SEC. Sorry Bulldog fans, maybe in Shockley’s Sr. season.

19. Pittsburgh
A veteran QB and an NFL coach has the place buzzing, but they are still the second best team in the Big East.

20. Arizona State
A powerful air attack and a decent defense will do a lot, but can’t make up for a tough schedule and a lack of production in the running game.

21. Boise State
A tough opener at Georgia may undo the BCS hopes for this offensive powerhouse that can’t seem to lose at home.

22. Auburn
This team lost like 52 guys to the NFL, but are still talented and still deep. But they need some young guys to step up to avoid a let-down season.

23. Bowling Green
Omar Jacobs alone (41 TDs to 4 INTs last year) makes this team tough to beat, but match that with a schedule that has only two tough games…

24. Colorado
The senior leadership of QB Klatt should help this team to the Big 12 North title, which only makes them the fourth best team in the Big 12.

25. Georgia Tech
This team is talented enough to compete with the elite, but that didn’t mean they should have scheduled Auburn and Georgia out of conference.


2005 Pre-season Heisman Predictions:

1. Vince Young - His athleticism matched with his team's success will prove difficult to overcome for all challengers.

2. Matt Leinart - Too much talent on one team will reduce his chances of a repeat.

3. Reggie McNeal - The most electric QB in Texas plays for the wrong team and the wrong coach to win the Heisman.

4. Reggie Bush - Splitting votes with teammates will hurt his chances.

5. C. J. Leak - A system designed to inflate numbers will help Leak make himself a contender, but his team's schedule will proably cost him the trophy.

Conspicuously absent: Adrian Peterson - Not enough help from the passing game will limit his numbers.


2005 Pre-season BCS Conference Rankings:

ACC
1. Virginia Tech
2. Miami
3. Florida State

Big East
1. Louisville
2. Pittsburgh
3. UConn

Big Ten
1. Iowa
2. Michigan
3. Ohio State

Big Twelve
North:
1. Colorado
2. Nebraska
South:
1. Texas
2. Texas A&M

Pac Ten
1. USC
2. Arizona State
3. California

SEC
East:
1. Tennessee
2. FLorida
West:
1. Alabama
2. LSU



I certainly welcome all comments and responses. I will continue to update with more info and more predictions as I feel necessary. God bless you and another fine college football season.

Question of the Week

Christian Slater wanted me to tell you guys to give this one some serious thought and then answer:

Name the five most underwhelming celebrities of our time.

Goodbye For Now.

Hey Cheesers. Sorry...I have been too busy to think straight. I just had my college football bonanza, but apparently hit the very wrong key and lost it all. I am going to bed very angry now. You will all have to wait a week for it...I apologize...I know that you are crushed and probably just as angry as I am now. Trust me though...it will be worth the wait!

Also, I will be out of town for a week, so I will not have much, if any, opportunity to blog. Until I return suffice yourselves with the other two of the great honkney trinity of blogging--the Eskimobot and the S.L.A.B.

Continue to think of me often. Pray I do not get a rash.

Question of the Day

Three-parter today:

1. Was O.J. Simpson guilty?

2. Was Ashlee Simpson talented?

3. Was O.J. more or less guilty than Ashlee was talented?

My Most Shameful Moment

Good morning Quesobanditos!!! Perhaps earlier statements have proven a little hasty. The Super College Football Bonanza post will have to wait until tomorrow, because today I have to get some things off my chest. As Usher would say, these are my confessions.

The Cheese tries to be a good man. The Cheese tries to keep all things in persepctive and not get too emotional about anything. But I have to be honest with you...I am after all just a man. And that means that like all other men, I lose it. I do things that are rash. Sometimes I get a rash, but that is beside the point. Today, because he trusts you and loves you, the High Cheese wants to share with you his most shameful moment. This actually is my most shameful moment.

So the Cheese loves his Alabama Crimson Tide football--it is my pleasure. The most incredible woman in the world and I hosted a goodly sized group of friends to watch the game. There wasn't a seat left in the house as about nine had gathered to cheer on my pride and joy. It was the opening week game against Oklahoma about two or three years back . It was close, real close, and the pressure was mounting. Fourth quarter. Under two minutes. I was about to explode. The Tide needed a stop in order to hold onto a lead that was running through their hands like water. It was fourth and nine. I was cracking up. Please Lord let them win. The quarterback for OU was one of the law-firm trio they had (Heupel, Hibl, and White), but I am not sure which one. It didn't matter. All I know is that he threw a perfect sideline pass to a receiver, Mark Clayton, who deftly tiptoed and caught the ball just past the first down marker keeping the gamewinning drive alive. NO! NO! NO! The Tide was beaten on that play. I couldn't hold it in. All of the emotion and anger came exploding out as I, full of hate and rage, shouted:

"I hope you get cancer!!!"

The entire room froze and grew quiet, as it should I suppose, whenever someone has completely crossed the line. I felt the guilt and weight of eight pairs of eyes who had that you-might-have-just-lost-your-salvation look in them. I remember thinking they were probably right. But I was too proud to simply apologize and own up to my faults. I tried to weasel out of the most hateful statement ever, "It can be treatable, I mean, I'm not a monster," I was a monster. "Nothing too bad, just like a small treatable tumor, you know." Everyone knew. Everyone knew that that is not what I meant. Anytime someone says cancer generally like that, you know they mean the worst kind possible.

An afternoon of joy and laughter and fun and comradery was crushed under the weight of my coal-black soul and its unchecked passion for the Crimson Tide.

I confess this for a reason. I confess this to tell you all that I am sorry. I have since learned to find more productive outlets for my rage. I have sense learned that college football is not everything. I have sense apologized to everyone there, but now I apologize to you as well. Finally I want to apologize to the most offended party, Mark Clayton, with this open letter:

Dear Mr. Clayton,

I am sorry. I hope you are cancer-free forever.

Sincerely yours,

The High Cheese

Remember kids, even at your worst, the man upstairs still loves you, and so do I. Have a good day. So ends part one of my confessions. Stay tuned for part two: the world cup.

Breaking News: Eskimobot Abducted

This just in: In certain areas the streets are filled with rioters and angry protesters because of the recent inactivity of the blogspot super hero, the Eskimobot--one of the great honky trinity of blogging. Fans and critics alike cited that it was indeed unlike the Eskimobot to remain so silent for so long. Many questioned what had happened to the cultural prophet. Now, the High Cheese has learned from secret sources and the man himself what has happened to the beloved Eskimobot.

As it turns out, the Eskimobot has indeed been abducted. He was taken around Monday at about 8:30 am by a ruthless taskmaster. He is holed up is a sweatshop somewhere in the southeastern U.S. Officials are expected to announce that they have narrowed down the search area to the state of Georgia after just a few more moments of confirmation.

Reports from inside are that the Eskimobot is being gruelingly and slavishly overworked, being deprived of honest wages and even sleep in order to meet the brutal demands of his captor. Having spoken only momentarily with the Eskimobot himself, he assures me that his escape is imminent and he will not be silent for much longer.

Continue to pray and watch for his speedy and safe return.

Question of the Day

Calling all self-dubbed "experts of the 1980s, we are going VH1 today:

What is the single most '80s song?

Nostalgia and Anger Management Issues

Greetings, my adoring public. I give you two things: 1. Much love, for you truly deserve it; 1. Fair warning that in two days you will be completely engulfed by the High Cheese's College Football Spectacular. Brace yourselves, this is powerful.

So I am wasting a few more hours of life the other day playing the brand new NCAA06 College Football video game on my PS2 the other day when I realized how much I missed the old school systems, especially the original Nintendo Entertainment System. Now I know that these have had no small resurgence in popularity--oddly enough among those who never experienced them the first time around--but I mean to tell you that I miss the little things that some throwback-jersey style rennaissance can't appreciate.

Sure, there were some amazing games. In RBI baseball, they little ball players were so slow going around the bases, but once they were out they could outrun the Flash to get back to the bench, regularly eliciting a "why the &$^@! can't he run like that to leg out a triple?" from a player struggling to check his anger (read: me, all the time. NES taught us all that the tongue really is a world of evil set on fire by hell.). And no one can question the power of Tecmobowl--still superior among video game football games. The programmers obviously loved the Raiders in that game--I mean, Howie Long, the 250 lb defensive lineman is the fastest player on the game, and can catch anyone, from any distance. Awesome. Who can forget the joy of Double Dragon, which taught us all that Ninjas do exist, in staggeringly large quantities, and they really do all want to kill you because you are walking down the street in a headband that matches your shirt? I will not hesitate to mention to the new generation of "gamers," who in my day were refered to by my father as "lazy @#!&%# dropout nerds," that Final Fantasy began on the NES. To this day, I have to give kudos to my brother for somehow selling me on the idea that weeks of watching him play the game while I was stuck holding a map and giving directions he didn't follow (read: being navigator) was considered fun for me. Ice to Eskimos, baby. Ice to Eskimos.


Mario: Before & After

Luigi recently offered, "Yeah...he may have had some work done, but, quite frankly, who hasn't these days."

Check out their latest project. Amazing. (click on view in another window on the right...well worth the wait)



Actually, though, what I miss most was that the original NES system was virtually indestructable--it was almost as good as the little black box on Airplanes today. I mean, every so often (read: all the time) you would put a game in and all you would get was the blinking screens of death--black, white, black, white... So how do you fix it? The obvious first solution was the "gale force blow" trick. First you took the game positioned the portion of the game that had the actual video programming card sticking out, and you mustered all of the force in your lungs, along with plenty of spit and moisture, and you sent a howling and punishing blast of air down into the small crevasse where this programming card was. Then, naturally, you grabbed the sleek and stylish big, grey box and repeated this aerobic effort only this time breathing/spewing/spitting directly into the most delicate circuitry that the NES had. Sure, the directions said swabbing with alcohol to clean, but we all knew that we simply had to generate enough wind friction to knock the residual filth and corrosion off of the circuitry and it would be fine. This amazingly solved the problem at least 80% of the time.

But, let's suppose you had mastered that maneuver and the game still wouldn't completely load--title scene, white, title scene, white... What next? Well, of course, you turn off the power, eject the game, replace it gently until the game is portruding just enough to not be able to close, and use your strength to cram the loader down with the game much more shallowly inserted than it was ever meant to be inserted. Then you powered back on. This amazingly solved another 15% of the problems.

Alas, at this point, if you weren't making progress, you had already cursed more at it than you would have actually playing game, so you simply retired. Unless of course you decided to beat the machine severely (as if you had not already). It had to learn its place. And learn its place, it did.

Once again, I am astounded by the stength and durability of the NES. I doubt my PS2 could handle any of the above "solutions." The NES put up with this being worked over daily in our house, and for many years. Never did it fail us or give up.

They don't make them like they used to.

Stay tuned for an appearance of yours truly as Mario. Pictures will undoubtedly surface. My physique does not lend me to much celebrity look-alike jazz, but when the shoe fits...Take care y'all.

This Space for Sale

I don't normally look to push things on you (or do I?), but you should read the Tater's blog today. Very funny. The link to the Cosmic Bowling is page is incredible. I wish that I had found it first. Kudos to you Tater. Kudos to you.

Question of the Day

David Caruso wants to know:



Who is the worst actor or actress currently with a major role on primetime TV? Explain.*

*You must also explain how this person is actually worse than my main man, Dave-o.

Public Service Announcement: Safehouses (con't.)

Who loves you? The High Cheese loves you. Why? Because I just can't help myself. I think about you and I just start to go crazy. I get these feelings and I can't even imagine if you were with someone else. I don't know what I'd do if you ever left me.

Anyway, drawing on the best memories of my last few experiences from Washington D.C., I have compiled a fine list for you to be blessed by today. Keep these close to your heart if you plan on travelling in any of these areas soon.

Location: Union Station, Amtrack Wing, 1st Floor

City: Washington, D.C.

Cleanliness: What do you really expect from a train station bathroom? I was expecting the door to say something like "VD Room," but it wasn't so horrible. I mean, it was looking pretty worse for wear, but honestly not due to a lack of cleanliness. Location. Location. Location. It is hard to overcome. All in all, an effort had been made to keep it as brightly lit as possible, probably as a crime deterrent. What ended up happening was I sweat out a big job getting all hot-dog glossy all over my arms.

Supply Level: A good level of supplies. Plenty of paper, plenty of paper towels, but two of the three dispensers were running out of soap.

Structural Fortitude: This gets them glowing merit. They used the Hiney Hiders brand of stall, which the Cheese has given his A+ rating for both durability and privacy. There is nothing better on the market, and they knew. I suppose that it is also worth noting that the stainless steel model of toilet is virtually indestructable. It is also a personal favorite for reasons I can't really explain.

Capacity: The room wasn't large, but they made the most of their space to meet capacity (It was in a train station. How much room is needed to smoke a doober?) They crammed four stalls and four urinals in by shoving down to two sinks (remember three soap dispensers...hmmm). Still, it was probably a great move. The traffic never ceased in this thing. I got like four new neighbors in the time it took to do the big job.

Graffiti: Most of it etched, most of it misspelled. All of it extremely vulgar. I felt dirty afterwards.

Ammenities: This really hurts their grade due to the location and traffic--No seat-covers. I guess it keeps me from writing that they were out of seat covers which they most certainly would have been due to the constant flow of people. There was no room for blowers, or a changing table. There was music though. Loud too. "Sweet Caroline" came on. This helped the experience altogether.

Comments: Location is everything in this game, but I had to go. Not near as bad as I was expecting or it could have been.

Overall Grade: B-, They should be very proud of themselves. But not as proud as...

Location: The National Archives Building, 2nd Floor

City: Washington, D.C.

Cleanliness: Cleanliness is next to Godliness, and this place might be the restroom in heaven. Spotless...even the brass was sinhy.

Supply Level: An extra roll fully wrapped in every stall, plenty of paper towels, plenty of everything.

Structural Fortitude: Although the stalls were basic aluminum with brassy chrome finish, they were pristine. No one would think to harm government property with things with trivial statements such as "Tell your mom I said hi."

Capacity: These things were as spacious as the apartments on friends. I think it might have been bigger than my D.C. hotel room. Anyway, the place had four, count 'em, four stall and three urinals, not to mention three sinks, three mirrors, two blowers, two paper towel dispensers, two trash cans, and a baby changing nook (you heard that right, it had its own forechamber). This was classy, and apparently ready to serve all of congress. Huge place. But I was the only one in it for a long time--Sure I was going, but I was overwhelmed as well. I needed time. So all this space, and no real need for it. It was just like our government. I was proud to be an American.

Graffiti: Not one jot. This was the kind of place that you find notes on paper left instead of graffiti. You respect a place this well tended. It's just natural.

Ammenities: In addition to all the stuff mentioned in the capacity section, I should mention that the counter top was fine marble. This place had crown molding. I didn't know bathrooms came like this. I wept for joy and triumph.

Comments: Even better is the fact that as you follow the many signs to this very clearly marked restroom, right before you get to them, you enter through two double glass doors that have across them "Conference Rooms." The first rooms you come to through those doors are the bathrooms. Amen to that design choice. Conference room indeed. Gorgeous.

Overall Grade: A+. One of the top three for sure. If you go to Washington, be sure and stop here for a well-deserved break.

Hopefully, today finds you fully enjoying life, or at least close to a restroom. God save the Cheese.